


You Made Me Love You I and II

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Non-consensual sex. Modell gets his revenge.





	You Made Me Love You I and II

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

You Made Me Love You I by Djinn

30 Dec 1997

You Made Me Love You I  
M/Sk Slash, NC-17  
Non-consensual sex  
Spoiler: Pusher  
OK to archive in the MKRA  
The characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. Thank you, Kai for beta reading this. Any errors remaining are due entirely to my mulishness in retaining them. (And yes, it would be nice to have grammar check!)

* * *

You Made Me Love You I  
(I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it)  
by Djinn

Mulder set the phone down, mouth dry. He tried to swallow, and felt himself allowed to do so. Turning his head slowly, he faced the intruder. Robert Patrick Modell sat sprawled on his couch, a look of amused malevolence on his features.

"How long will it take him to drive here?"

Mulder licked his lips, willing himself to resist answering. A stab of pain rewarded him for his resistance.

"Fox," Modell said warningly. "You don't want to make me unhappy. You just want to relax and, go with the flow." The man's full lips spread in a mocking grin.

Mulder cringed inwardly as the words escaped his lips.

"About 20 to 30 minutes."

"Good. So why don't you go take a shower, get cleaned up. Company's coming." As Mulder stood and began to walk jerkily to the bathroom, Modell added, "And put on some of that FBI aftershave. You know, sexy."

With the man's perverse laughter ringing in his ears, Mulder continued on to the bathroom and stood looking at his face in the mirror. Same eyes, same nose, same face. Why didn't the fact that Modell was controlling him show? There should be some sign, but there wasn't. Mulder began to undress himself. He wanted to yell, to fight, but he was powerless. Modell had grown even stronger since the last time he had held Mulder's mind. The last time. . .when he had nearly forced Mulder to kill Scully.

Beads of sweat stood out on Mulder's forehead from the strain of trying to resist the bastard in the other room. What could Modell be planning now? He seemed to have abandoned the honorable enemy tack that would have been part of the samurai code. Why? How could Mulder fight him?

You can't.

As he turned on the water in the shower, Mulder began to shiver. Modell was everywhere inside his mind.

That's right. Now step inside and let the water run down your body. Feels good, doesn't it? Soap, Fox. Yes. Yes. All over. Clean yourself well. You have a date. And then there was the laughter in his mind, echoing like a shout bounced off canyon walls. Mulder wanted to curl into a foetal position and hide from that invasive presence, but there was no haven, no safe place, only the certainty that Modell had something planned that he, Mulder, would hate.

As Walter Skinner parked in front of Mulder's apartment building, he played the strange phone call over in his mind.

"Sir? It's me, Mulder." Mulder's voice sounded strained.

"What do you want, Agent Mulder?" Skinner's tone was brusque, unwelcoming.

"You need to come to my apartment, sir." 

"I *need* to what?"

"There's something here that you need to see. Please sir, it's urgent." Probably another giant fluke. Damn, he'd just settled in to watch a ball game, luxuriating in a rare moment of indolence.

"Is Scully there?" 

Panic in the voice now. "No sir, we don't need Scully. We don't want her here. Please, sir."

"Agent Mulder -"

"Please!"

"I'm on my way. It had better be good." Skinner could have sworn he heard someone laughing in the background. Mulder had sounded genuinely frightened though. Thoughtfully, he made sure his gun was loaded before he left. He considered calling Scully, finding out if she knew what her partner was up to, then dismissed it. Whatever it was, Mulder seemed more than a little upset. This from an agent who could face down flesh-eating mutants with equanimity was disturbing. What could be going on?

Mulder was naked except for a towel draped around his hips when he opened the door to Skinner's knock. A towel and a sickly smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Hello there, handsome." Mulder's lips were tight on the words, as if they had been forced out of him. "Come on in, don't be shy."

"What in the hell is going on here, Agent Mulder?" As Mulder moved aside, Skinner entered the apartment, and Mulder closed the door behind him, resting his forehead on the door for a moment, eyes shut. Then he jerked his head up and faced Skinner again.

"Is that a gun or are you just happy. . ." Mulder put his head down and grunted with pain, "just happy to see me." His head snapped up and the rictus of a grin curved his lips. His eyes, though, were dark with fear.

Skinner sucked in a breath, something was desperately wrong, but what? "Mulder?"

It's a gun, isn't it, Walter? Take it out and put it on the counter. That's right. Now, come on in and say hi. 

Mulder wrapped his arms around his sides, watching helplessly as Skinner was forced to walk into the living room. He saw the tension in Skinner as he fought the compulsion in his mind, the same compulsion that held Mulder motionless. Modell had indeed become stronger. He was obviously strong enough now to control two subjects at once.

Modell grinned mirthlessly as Skinner, reluctantly and in obvious pain, fell to his knees before the couch and began to remove his tie.

Join us, Fox. Walter could use your help.

Mulder found himself unwrapping the towel and walking naked into the living room to stand behind the assistant director. Skinner was shaking with the effort to regain control of his movements, but continued to undress, now unbuttoning the white dress shirt that was his standard uniform.

Mulder felt his hands go out, helping Skinner slide the shirt off his shoulders. Skinner looked wildly up at him, teeth clenched. A sheen of perspiration gave witness to the effort with which he fought Modell's compulsion.

Come on, boys. Play nice with each other. Fox, Foxy, you know this is what has been in your mind for a long time. 

*Not this* Mulder tried to argue with the Modell presence that reverberated through his mind. *Not like this*

He knelt close behind Skinner, pressing his body against the older man's bare back. As if there were an invisible hand behind his head, he felt his mouth brought down to Skinner's shoulder in an obscene parody of a kiss. His hands reached around the front of the trembling man, roving haphazardly across the man's muscular chest.

Foxy. Do I have to show Walter what I see in your mind? The images you have had of him? The fantasies of him that you have jerked off to here on this very couch? No? Then you had better get with it, G-Man.

Mulder moved his lips against Skinner's shoulder, trailing kisses up to his ear, then biting his earlobe. His hands, rather than the previous aimless movement, were now caressing Skinner's nipples, teasing and pinching them.

Skinner gasped. "You bastard," he ground out at Modell. "I'll kill you for this." 

Who knows, Walter, baby, you might want to thank me instead.

Groaning, Skinner leaned back into Mulder's embrace. He then twisted his body so that he was facing the naked man. Mulder's eyes were wet with unshed tears as he placed his mouth on Skinner's. "It's not us, Mulder, it's him. Don't forget that," Skinner breathed into Mulder's mouth and watched helplessly as the tears began to trail down the man's cheeks. A moment later, Mulder's tongue began exploring Skinner's mouth while his body undulated against the other man's burly torso.

Skinner closed his eyes, trying to fight the LUST that was hammering into every iota of his consciousness. He was filled with helpless rage against Modell, against the involuntary rape into which he and Mulder were being forced. Then LUST took over, leaving no resistance or gentleness in its wake. As if from a great distance, Skinner saw himself brutally shoving Mulder back onto the floor and pressing the length of his body against him as he began to grind his pelvis into Mulder's mercilessly.

Mulder moaned and arched his body into Skinner, then began to frantically work at Skinner's belt. Rising to his knees and straddling the younger man, Skinner pulled his belt off in one savage motion. Roughly pushing his trousers and briefs down around his thighs, Skinner exposed a painfully hard erection. Mulder wrapped his hands about it, stroking it to even greater hardness. 

Fuck his mouth.

Skinner struck Mulder's hands away, and crawled up the length of Mulder's body, stopping with his cock poised over Mulder's open mouth. Mulder lifted his arms and wrapped them around Skinner's hips and guided the weeping cock to his lips.

Now, Walter, fuck him now. Choke him with it.

Skinner, whose size had always made him more sensitive, if anything, to the comfort of his sexual partners. Whose professional brusqueness hid a gentleness too seldom bestowed on another, began to thrust into the mouth of the one man whose good opinion mattered to him more than any other. Hearing Mulder gag and feeling him struggle to breath, made him pound into the man's open mouth even harder. Not even the painful scrape of Mulder's teeth on the sensitive skin of his cock could stop him. He felt the tip of his cock scrape the ridges on the back of Mulder's throat, pulled out, and thrust inside him again and again and again, mindlessly raping his subordinate's mouth. Mulder's arms tried to hold Skinner off him, slow him down, but to no avail.

Within moments, Skinner's body convulsed in wave after wave of orgasm, pumping hot liquid into Mulder's throat. Skinner screamed incoherently, voicing his rage against Modell, his hatred for the bastard who was making him do this and for himself as well, even though he knew intellectually that he couldn't help himself.

Finally he felt himself pull out of Mulder and lay down on his side. Dazed, he watched as Mulder rolled over and got to his hands and knees, milky cum streaming out of his mouth, coughing and struggling to breathe. 

Whoa, Walter, you don't fool around do you? 

Skinner closed his eyes, unable to shut out the amused mocking presence. Listening to Mulder retch after what he'd done to him, Skinner inadvertently made a sobbing sound.

"Sir," Mulder whispered hoarsely. "I'm okay. Really."

Skinner opened his eyes, taking in Mulder's bruised mouth, his still labored breathing. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I -" He broke off, his eyes going to Modell where he still lounged on the couch, laughing at them. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch, if it's the last thing I do."

Walter, Walter, Walter. Admit it, you have always wanted to shut Mulder's mouth. Now you have. Deep down, a part of you enjoyed doing that. 

Skinner shook his head slightly, and heard again the mocking laughter in his mind.

And deep down, a part of you is going to love this.

Opening his eyes again, Skinner watched Mulder crawl forward and collapse against him. This time, Skinner clasped Mulder to him of his own volition, his hands caressing the younger man's back gently in comfort and in apology. When Mulder held his mouth to his, Skinner tenderly kissed the bruised lips, this time his own eyes bright with unshed tears. 

Mulder put his hands on the floor on either side of Skinner's head and rubbed his cheek against the older man's jawline. He lay fully against the bigger man, and Skinner could feel the pulse of Mulder's erection against his stomach. 

Turn over, Walter. Take it like a man.

As he felt Skinner turn beneath him, Mulder was in turmoil. He could feel Modell in his mind, but it was more like a light touch rather than the constricting presence it had been. He worked his jaw, knowing he would have bruises, and not really sure if he would regret them. *I hate this* he thought, and bit Skinner gently on the shoulder. He then trailed light kisses down the other man's spine, until he had reached the small of his back. Resting his face against the cleft between Skinner's buttocks, he breathed in the musky smell of the man. 

Keep going, Foxy, you're doing just fine.

Skinner's legs moved wide apart, almost painfully so, and Mulder knew that Modell had forced this. Rebelling against the man's control, he shook his head and tried to raise himself away from Skinner.

Oh, no, you don't. You are going to have your turn. I can make you hurt him. Do you really want that? The choice is yours.

Mulder put his hands to Skinner's ass cheeks, giving himself better access, and put a tongue to the small opening there. Skinner jumped, body trembling, as Mulder swirled his tongue inside him, tasting him. Skinner moaned, fists clenched and knuckles pushed against the hardwood floor, now slick with sweat and semen. Mulder gently kissed the insides of Skinner's thighs then wiped at the cum that was still on his cheeks and chin, spreading it over the fingers of his right hand. 

"Damn you, Modell." Skinner's hoarse whisper answered the questing finger that Mulder eased into his boss's body, gently stretching the opening. He added another finger, and with it, sought and found the prostate. Alternately brushing the gland and stretching the ring of muscle guarding Skinner's anus, Mulder coaxed unwilling moans of pleasure from the helpless man. Withdrawing his fingers from the now slick opening, Mulder moved back slightly. Against his will, his cock had hardened and Mulder didn't know if it was through Modell or his own excitement at giving pleasure to this man lying spread eagle before him.

Bottoms up, Walter.

Skinner eased back on his forearms, presenting himself to Mulder who was now kneeling between his legs. Carefully placing the head of his erect cock against the small hole, Mulder hesitated. This was a betrayal, a rape. When it came to it, he couldn't do this to someone he cared for, respected, as he did Walter Skinner.

Wimp. I figured you'd wuss out on me. Ah well, all you need is a little PUSH!

Mulder felt his pelvis jut forward, thrusting his cock deep inside Skinner's body. He felt the hot tightness clenched around him as the pain forced Skinner's muscles to convulse. His hands went to Skinner's shoulders as the man raised himself off his forearms to his hands. His cock pulling almost all the way out, Mulder felt Modell thrust him into Skinner again. Again. Again. A rhythm established itself, with Mulder resting his forehead against Skinner's taut back, trying to keep himself from crying out in anger and in guilty pleasure.

For pity's sake, Foxy, give the man a reach around.

Mulder's hand immediately went to Skinner's cock. He was surprised to feel it hard and stroked it in time to the thrusts, his hand at least in his control.He wanted to pleasure Skinner in this, at least, so he concentrated on bringing Skinner to orgasm in time with his own.

Mulder began thrusting of his own volition, feeling Skinner's body arching and seeking the cock pumping inside him. He could tell from the grunt of pleasure on the downstroke when he had brushed Skinner's prostate, and angled his thrusts accordingly, gradually picking up the tempo, and answering the speed with the motions of his stroking hand.

Skinner came first into Mulder's fist, milky cum leaking from it onto the floor. His clenching muscles brought Mulder to orgasm almost immediately after, so that both men were carried on the same waves of pleasure.

Exhausted, Mulder collapsed against Skinner's back, and the other man, strong as he was, could not long hold both of them up and himself lay down on the floor. Mulder slipped out of the older man, and rolled to lay beside him. Reluctantly, he turned his face and looked into Skinner's eyes, afraid of the pain and condemnation that he would see there.

Instead, Skinner's brown eyes expressed understanding and something else. He reached around Mulder and gathered him into his arms. It was too much for Mulder. The pain, pleasure, and overwhelming guilt began to force spasms of sobs out of him that came from the depths of his soul. 

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, it's okay." Skinner placed a hand on the side of Mulder's face, sheltering him, protecting him. "I know, I know."

Mulder buried his face into Skinner's shoulder, and wrapped himself around the older man, seeking in physical contact the comfort and forgiveness he couldn't bear to ask him for. Skinner responded by holding Mulder as closely to himself as he could, expressing his own pain and regret with gentle touches and caresses.

They lay there for what seemed a long time, waiting for the next torment from Modell. Finally, Skinner raised his head to look at the bastard. He 

was gone. Skinner felt a quick urge to get up, go after him, punish him, and then he looked at the man in his arms and put his head back down, holding Mulder even closer to him.

Modell could wait. 

***************

Constructive criticism and encouragement may be sent to 

All others should be posted on the wall of a public restroom. 

 

* * *

 

Sat, 28 Feb 1998

M/Sk NC-17  
Spoiler: Pusher  
Mulder and Skinner attempt to deal with the situation, and may get better with practice.  
The characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. Thank you, Kai, for beta reading this. All foul and fetid prose remaining is mine.  
Okay to archive at MSSS

* * *

You Made Me Love You II  
(And all the time you knew it!)  
by Djinn  
<>

February 1998

"Are you all right, Mulder?" Quietly, almost a whisper. Skinner's brown eyes expressed deep concern. As Mulder did not answer, Skinner gently took hold of the other man's upper arm. "Mulder, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. Modell made us do this to each other."

Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, Mulder twisted his arm out of Skinner's grasp and turned away from him, hiding his face.

Suddenly more brisk, Skinner drew on his pants. "Agent Mulder, Modell might as well have held a gun on us for all the choice we had. I want you to remember that." He pulled on his shirt and paused. The force of the silence drew Mulder's eyes around to his. "I see no need to include this episode in an official report. Do you, Agent Mulder?"

"No, sir." Lips bruised, Mulder barely spoke aloud and dropped his gaze to his hands which were clenching and unclenching. He tightened the belt of his robe.

Skinner made an impatient gesture. "Mulder. Neither of us wanted this, neither of us *enjoyed* this. Neither of us have anything to be ashamed of or to feel guilty about. You know that what you feel now is a reaction to your own helplessness in this situation."

"Yes, sir. I - I would really like to get cleaned up now, sir."

"Yeah, me, too. All right. If you have any problems-"

Skinner's kindness after what he had done was like salt in a wound. "I'm fine, sir. Really. I just need some time to myself." He raised his head a little. "Are you okay?" His voice was weak. He hated sounding this fragile, this needy.

"I'm shaken of course, as I know you are." The gentle understanding in Skinner's voice almost undid the younger man. He began to shake. "Mulder. Fox. I think you are going into shock. Here." Skinner put his hands on Mulder's trembling shoulders.

Mulder wrenched away from the other man as if the touch burned him and Skinner stepped back. "Just leave, please. I'll be okay." He partially turned, not looking at Skinner. He could hear Skinner's expelled breath, then heard him putting on his shoes, moving around the room and picking up a few other articles of clothing that lay scattered around the floor where Modell had forced him to strip only hours before.

"Mulder. Is there someone you can call? Someone who could stay with you? Agent Scully?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't want anyone. I just want to be left alone. Can't you understand that?" He heard Skinner striding away from him. Waiting for the sound of the front door closing, he heard the shower start and steps returning to him.

"Come on, Mulder." Skinner firmly grasped Mulder's upper arms. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"I'm okay, dammit! Just go!" Mulder tried to break Skinner's hold, but found himself being propelled to the bathroom. Once there, Skinner twisted Mulder around to face him.

"You have been raped, Mulder. By Modell. Through me. No, don't say anything right now. Just listen to me." Skinner took a deep breath, expelled it gustily. "I have always respected your work as an agent, your personal integrity. Don't shake your head, Mulder, it's true. I would like to maintain a relationship of mutual respect that I believe we have always had. i would like to put this episode behind us. I want you to know that I don't hold you responsible for any of this, and I hope you don't believe any of the events of this evening were my personal choice. Mulder? Mulder!"

Skinner shook the younger man gently, appalled by his violent shivering.

"Christ, Mulder, I should take you to a hospital."

"Can't you just leave? I swear, I won't bring any of this to work, but I need to be alone now." Though slightly breathless, Mulder managed to imbue his words with a seriousness that he needed to make Skinner believe.

"Mulder." Skinner was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Maybe it would be all right. Maybe he could walk away, take care of himself, and trust this highly strung man to do the same. He stared into Mulder's eyes trying to read them and reassure himself.

Although it took more strength than he knew he possessed, Mulder met the look and held it. "I'll be fine. I just need to get some rest, think it through." Carefully, Mulder stepped back just enough to loosen Skinner's hold. "You need to get home yourself."

Skinner dropped his hands to his sides. "You're sure? You'll be okay tonight?"

"Scout's honor." Mulder essayed a smile. It was weak, but there, and it eased Skinner's concern.

"I'll leave you to your shower, then." Skinner walked out of the bathroom. He stood for a moment, listening to the sound of the water, thinking there should be something more he could do or say. But his emotional and mental resources were drained, and all he wanted was to be alone himself. Somehow he made it out to his car, then, strictly on automatic pilot, Skinner drove himself home to his Crystal City apartment. As he opened the door and let himself inside he felt a dull amazement that nothing had changed outwardly. The living room looked the same, the air still and undisturbed. Only he had changed.

Refusing to let himself think, Skinner locked the front door and walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Stripping and letting his clothes fall to the floor, instead of either hanging them up or putting them in a a laundry basket, he walked to his bathroom and turned on his shower. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Skinner stared at his reflection for a long moment, then turned and entered the shower stall. Soaping himself quickly and impersonally, Skinner steadfastedly refused to acknowledge the marks left by Mulder. . . no, don't go there, don't think. He dried himself off and slipped on some sweat pants. he didn't feel comfortable sleeping naked. Not tonight. He only wanted to feel the fleece and the cotton sheets against his skin. And not to think. But he lay there for the rest of the night, watching the red numbers on his alarm clock count inexorably toward 6:00 a.m.

After awhile, avoiding Skinner became second nature a reflex he didn''t even need to think about. It wasn't always easy, but Mulder fell into the habit of using the stairs when going to the records room, avoiding certain areas of the building at times when Skinner was probably on one of his prowls, and going to lunch at an odd time or not eating at all. Not eating was easier. All he had to do was remember.

Of course, when Skinner called them in to discuss their report on the Modell shooting, it was awkward to the point of causing panic. By the way she looked at him, he knew that Scully was feeling his stress and she brushed his fingers with her own, the way she had at the hospital when they had been observing a comatose Modell. Believing that the Russian roulette game Modell had forced on him was haunting him still, she was giving him the utmost emotional support that he would accept.

The implicit lie to Scully made him feel worse. That, and the fact that he couldn't meet Skinner's eyes.

The meeting was mercifully brief. Mulder had been striding quickly to the door and his escape when Skinner called him back.

"A moment of your time, Agent Mulder."

Setting his jaw, Mulder turned and advanced a few steps toward Skinner's desk. "Yes, sir?"

Skinner sighed and removed his glasses. He had been dreading this encounter, but knew it could be delayed no longer. "How are you coping with the situation, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder fought an urge to feign non-comprehension. "I'm fine, sir. No problems." His eyes slid across Skinner's and away.

Staring at the nameplate on the desk, Mulder felt Skinner's gaze pulling his eyes back up. He saw the concern there and managed a tight smile. "It's over now, sir. Isn't it?" He regretted the question immediately, and closed his teeth together with a click in the vain desire to eat his words.

"I suppose it is. I know you and Agent Scully had an extremely unpleasant encounter with Modell prior to the shooting." Skinner was searching for words, turning phrases over in his mind and rejecting them. It made for a long and uncomfortable pause which gave Mulder his opportunity to escape.

"It that is all, sir?"

Skinner replaced his glasses and sat down at his desk. "That's all, Agent Mulder."

Mulder embraced as much of his old routine as he could. Eschewing intimacy, he sought only the most impersonal, temporary contacts. One night stands, pickup basketball with strangers in the park, even avoiding having lunch with Scully.

It was after a pickup game that Mulder returned home one Saturday afternoon, flushed and sweaty, to find Skinner waiting at his door. His mouth dried immediately. "Hello. Uh, to what do I owe this honor, sir?"

"We need to talk." Skinner was dressed casually, a stranger without the ubiquitous suit and starched white shirt.

Mulder felt panic knot his gut. He nervously dribbled the basketball once, twice. "Okay."

Mulder tossed the basketball through the kitchen and into the living room as he entered the apartment. He felt Skinner follow him and nervously glanced back. The AD's face was set, grim. "You wanna beer?" Mulder cursed the quaver in his voice.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

Mulder stuck his head into the nearly empty refrigerator and pulled out a couple of longnecks. Opening one on the counter's edge, he handed it to Skinner and opened the other for himself. After taking a long pull on it, he finally looked at the other man.

Skinner started to motion to the living room, then thought better of it and pulled a chair out from the dining table and seated himself. "We need to talk," he repeated, heavily.

His t-shirt and sweats were sticking to his skin, and Mulder almost asked if it could wait until he took a shower but swallowed his words at the expression on Skinner's face.

"I've been thinking about the incident. About what happened, about why it happened." Skinner looked steadily at Mulder, who averted his eyes and picked at the label on the bottle. "Mulder, why did Modell force you to call me? Was it because of the struggle in the office?"

"Sir, I. . ." Mulder's voice froze.

"I need an explanation, Agent Mulder." Implacable tone.

"I'm not sure." Mulder could see that Skinner considered that reply unacceptable. His mind raced to find a plausible answer without betraying himself. At the same time, his burden of guilt threatened to overwhelm him. "I think he pulled your name out of my mind."

"Why? Why me and not someone else? Not that I would wish that on anyone else, I just need to understand why he chose to force me." There was pain behind the bewilderment.

"I must have been thinking of you when he took control of my mind." *I was thinking of you and jerking off and not paying attention and he just waltzed into my mind and took over.* Mulder's thoughts were frantic and he tried to school his face not to reveal that.

"Thinking of me?" Mulder watched Skinner seize the idea and worry at it, turning it over and over in his mind, all angles, all implications.

Mulder tipped his head back, taking a long drink on his beer, avoiding Skinner's eyes. But they were waiting, brown and intense, when he put down the beer.

There was no way that Mulder could not meet Skinner's gaze. And meeting it, there was no way he could hide his thoughts.

At Skinner's indrawn breath Mulder stood up and turned his back on the table, setting his beer on the kitchen counter. "Do you want another beer? I could use another one." No way anyone could mistake his tone for normal.

"No, thanks." The reply was automatic, while his brain was attempting to process what he had read in Mulder's eyes. He'd had subordinates go through crushes on him before, sure, but Mulder? And the consequences of this crush, if that was what it was, were particularly cruel.

The silence was worse than any loud recriminations or expressions of disgust. Mulder turned to see Skinner staring at his hands bracketing the beer bottle on the table.

"It's the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy, sir. There are all kinds of irregularities at the Bureau, now."

Mulder regretted his impulsive and smart-assed outburst, but Skinner only replied mildly, "There always were, Agent Mulder." His mind was clearly occupied.

"I'm very sorry, sir. I would never have -" Mulder sat down again abruptly.

"I know that, Mulder." Slightly exasperated voice. "I am trying to. . ." Skinner sighed heavily. "Oh, hell if I know." He drank his beer in one long draw, throat working as he swallowed.

Watching him, the younger man shivered. *Sweat drying on my skin, giving me a chill,* Mulder told himself, but his body knew otherwise.

"Thanks for the beer, Mulder." Skinner stood and shrugged his shoulders wearily. "I guess this helped some. I don't know." He put his hand on the doorknob. "I know that wasn't you that night."

Mulder swallowed hard. "It was me. I was here and thinking of you and that's where Modell got the idea. It was me."

"It wasn't your fault, Mulder. I don't blame you."

"You should. You really don't know what was going on in my mind." Mulder's sense of self-preservation screamed at him to stop but he couldn't. The words that had burned him came spilling out. "I was fantasizing about you, and Modell picked up on it."

Skinner walked over to Mulder and put a hand on his shoulder. "I meant what I said, Mulder, I don't blame *you*. Modell did it, not *you*."

Shrugging Skinner's hand off his shoulder, Mulder stood and stepped away from the older man. "Modell wasn't in control all the time, sir. Not all the time."

Skinner stepped forward and put a hand on each shoulder. "Mulder, stop it. You couldn't help yourself anymore than I could. It was all Modell, not us."

"No it wasn't." Mulder caught his breath and then moved his head forward, brushing his lips lightly across Skinner's mouth. Skinner instinctively pushed him away, but kept his hands on Mulder's shoulders.

"Oh, God." The older man whispered. A prayer, a curse, Mulder couldn't tell. Then Skinner was moving, pressing their bodies together, capturing Mulder's mouth with his own and Mulder stopped thinking. The taste of beer mingled with the taste of Skinner, hot and sweet. The tongue that probed his mouth, touched and explored, drawing forth a helpless moan from the back of Mulder's throat. Mulder's hands roamed feverishly over Skinner's broad back, moving to mold the material of the shirt to the planes and muscles hidden beneath. Skinner shifted, sliding his hands from Mulder's shoulders to brace them against the wall on either side of him. Mulder pushed one hand under the waist of Skinner's jeans, feeling the hot skin underneath.

Skinner pulled his head back slightly on an indrawn breath, catching Mulder's lower lip gently in his teeth, sucking on it, then tracing a line of nips and kisses down the jaw line to the vulnerable spot behind Mulder's ear. Mulder's hands dug into Skinner's shoulders and back and he arched his body, grinding his erection into the other man's crotch.

"Please," Mulder gasped and wasn't sure what he was asking for. Please don't stop, please fuck me, please, please. He cupped the back of the muscular neck, holding the length of his body to the other man's. He could feel Skinner's arms tremble on the wall behind them, as they took the strain of both men's weight.

With a groan, Skinner pushed Mulder back against the wall, freeing his hand, and fumbled at the waistband of Mulder's sweat pants, pulling down the front to grasp Mulder's cock. Then, abruptly, he was still.

Mulder moaned, and clasped Skinner to him, but the other man moved slowly and inexorably away from him.

"Mulder." Skinner straightened up, stepped back and looked away from the man leaning against the wall. Mulder's sweat pants were pushed down to mid-thigh, his cock rampant and weeping, his lips full and bruised.

"Please." Mulder whispered. "Please." His legs were trembling too much to support him and he slid down the wall. He set his teeth and closed his eyes, willing the floor to swallow him up, for Skinner to just go ahead and get out. He couldn't trust his voice enough yet to demand the latter, so he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the other man to leave.

Instead, there was the feel of Skinner's large hand smoothing his hair. "Mulder, this is ..." he couldn't bring himself to say 'wrong', "crazy. You know that. It could be death for both our careers."

"Fine," Mulder bit out through his clenched teeth and was pleased that there was no whine in his voice. He opened his eyes to see Skinner crouched in front of him. "Just go, then. End of story."

"Fox." The name surprised a choked laugh from Mulder, and the hand in his hair, gentled his cheek. Mulder shook his head, dislodging it and then, irrationally, pressed his face to Skinner's hand before he could withdraw it.

"Oh, god. Fox." And Skinner's arms were around him, he was kissing him again, and Mulder knew that he was lost, lost.

"This is for real this time?" Mulder gasped. "No pulling back? You're sure? Because you're driving me out of my mind with this."

"No pulling back," Skinner whispered against his lips, "despite my better judgment." They stayed like that for several minutes, the only movement was Skinner's mouth as it moved over Mulder's face, kissing his mouth, his eyelids, his chin, like a blind man learning his lover's face by touch. Finally, the cold of the kitchen floor propelled them to their feet.

Suddenly shy, Mulder gestured towards the bedroom. "I have lube and stuff. .." He pulled his sweat pants up a little, his cock still semi-hard.

"Good." Skinner's voice was gruff, and he kept his hands loosely on Mulder's waist. "Let's go."

The short walk into the bedroom was awkward, desire warring with diffidence. They couldn't quite walk abreast, didn't want to let go of each other. *It's not exactly like I'd fantasized,* Mulder thought, then Skinner stopped and pulled Mulder to him, kissing him deeply. Mulder almost asked him if he could read his mind, then he remembered. The sudden memory of Modell was an invasion, killing his desire.

"What?" Skinner felt the difference in Mulder's skin. "You don't want to?"

"Yes. Yes. It was - I was just thinking. . ."

"Don't think. Don't remember. There's only us, you and me. Right now." Skinner looked into Mulder's eyes. The honesty and intensity in the older man's brown gaze successfully banished the past and future.

"All right. Just now, just us." Mulder nodded and pulled Skinner up to the bed. Glancing down, he blushed slightly and grabbed the bedspread, pulling it to the foot of the bed and hauling at least twenty pounds of books and files with it onto the floor. "Uh, usually I sleep on the couch."

Skinner bit his lip to hold back a smile. Neither of them felt easy enough to laugh at the other, not yet. Maybe not ever. Maybe just now was all there would ever be.

He placed a gentle hand on Mulder's thigh, edging up under the t-shirt and pulling it up to shoulder height. Mulder shrugged the shirt all the way off and was rewarded by the feel of Skinner's mouth on his collarbone.

Mulder was salty with the dried sweat of the game and Skinner couldn't get enough of the taste. He could feel Mulder fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, answering the motions by pulling Mulder's sweat pants down and running his hands down Mulder's lean back to his tight runner's ass.

They fell on the bed together, jarring them apart momentarily, then Skinner was lying on top of the younger man, his mouth pressed to the hollow of Mulder's throat, the material of his jeans rubbing against Mulder's cock.

"Clothes," Mulder breathed. "Get. Clothes. Off." His hands that had been holding Skinner pushed at the other man insistently. He couldn't move his legs with his sweat pants around his knees, and he wanted access to Skinner without the barrier of shirt and jeans.

With a groan, Skinner pushed himself to sit on the edge of the bed, and began to hurriedly remove his shoes and socks. Mulder tried to swing his legs around in order to follow suit, but succeeded only in thumping Skinner in the back with his knees.

"Sorry."

"S'okay." Skinner stood and stripped off his shirt, watching as Mulder worked on the laces of his high-tops. The sweat pants had bunched up and he couldn't see the his hands on the laces. Mulder looked up to catch a bemused expression on Skinner's face as he looked for a clear surface to place his shirt. He finally walked to the bedroom door and draped it over a doorknob.

Mulder grinned at him sheepishly, then returned to working at a particularly recalcitrant knot. As he finally managed to loosen the laces enough to slide his foot out, he heard Skinner drape his jeans over the door. The sound of change and keys dropping out of pockets accompanied the action.

Skinner's mouth twisted briefly in irritation. He removed his glasses and laid them gingerly on the pile of books covering Mulder's dresser. Turning back to the bed, he watched as Mulder stepped out of his sweats, tossing them toward a pile of presumably dirty clothes that had accumulated near the closet.

Mulder caught his gaze. "Laundry day tomorrow." He took a breath and ran his eyes over Skinner's naked body. "Wow."

Skinner stepped closer, stroked a path from Mulder's chest to his navel. "You've seen me before."

"Yeah, but. . ." Mulder abandoned that train of thought and merely leaned into a kiss.

There was a definite strain as their bodies came together, an unyielding press of bone to bone that would have been uncomfortable if they'd both not been so intensely aroused. This time, they settled on the bed more slowly, mouths fastened, tongues entwined. Again, Skinner settled on top of Mulder, pushing his cock into Mulder's belly, feeling Mulder's erect penis pushing into his own. They were moving out of synchrony, frantically rubbing against each other, and Mulder was finding it difficult to breathe.

"I can't breathe," he gasped at last, as Skinner's mouth moved to his throat.

"Sorry." Skinner shifted his weight off the slimmer body, biting Mulder's shoulder gently. He pulled gently on Mulder's chest hair. "How do you want to do this?" he whispered.

Mulder opened and closed his mouth a couple of times without speaking. "We could just see what develops, I guess." He stroked Skinner's cock, and the larger man pushed into his hand. "How do you want it?" He could feel the moisture of Skinner's precum on his stomach.

Skinner mirrored his motions, and licked a nipple, then blew on it. Mulder arched his body into that mouth and squeezed on Skinner's cock.

"Careful." Skinner kissed his way rapidly down Mulder's body, pausing to swirl a tongue in his navel. Mulder, forced to relinquish his hold on Skinner's sex, cupped the back of the AD's neck with one hand, while teasing one of his own nipples with the other. He moaned in encouragement as Skinner licked the length of his cock and took the head of it in his mouth.

"Watch the teeth," he panted, as Skinner's mouth engulfed more of him. He thrust up into Skinner's mouth, forcing his cock to the back of the other man's throat, making Skinner gag and pull his head back.

"You have lube?"

Mulder motioned toward the bedside table and Skinner kneewalked toward it, yanking the drawer open and scrabbling through the contents. "Where?"

Raising himself to one elbow, Mulder leaned over the drawer and finally picked out lube and a condom. Pushing up to hand it over, his head knocked into Skinner's jaw, jarring them both.

"Sorry."

Mulder lay back down, handing the lube and condom to Skinner, who was working his jaw back and forth with one hand.

Taking the lube, Skinner spread it over the first three fingers of his right hand, then tried to open the condom package with slick fingers. "Shit."

"Here, I'll do it."

Mulder ripped open the package, managing not to tear the latex. He sat up, carefully placing it on Skinner's erect cock and gently rolling it down. Laying back down, he smiled up at the other man triumphantly. "There you go."

"Mulder," Skinner shook his head, grinning back at the younger man. He leaned back down and took the head of Mulder's cock back into his mouth, while running his lube slicked fingers around Mulder's balls and traced a line down the perineum to the tight circle of muscle at the anus.

Mulder bit his lip as the first finger went in, then tried to relax. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the wet heat of Skinner's mouth on his cock and felt the second finger work into him.

Skinner wriggled his fingers, seeking the prostate, and was rewarded when he brushed it by Mulder moaning loudly and pushing against his hand. After he had stretched the muscle with his third finger, he gave Mulder's cock one last long lick up the large vein and positioned his own cock against the tight ring of muscle.

Planting a hand on either side of Mulder's abdomen, he leaned forward for another deep kiss, feeling Mulder draw his legs up to give him access. "Okay?" he questioned against Mulder's mouth.

Mulder nodded very slightly, not wanting to free Skinner's mouth. One hand was holding the back of Skinner's head, the other stroking his own painfully hard cock.

Skinner pushed in slowly, pausing after the head went in to give Mulder time to adjust and relax.

"It's okay. Do it, do it." Mulder urged Skinner, pushing at Skinner's ass with his ankles. "All the way in."

"I don't want to hurt you." Skinner continued his slow progress, punctuated by pauses to allow Mulder to get used to the presence of his cock.

Mulder, though, was stroking himself, and wanted to feel Skinner mirroring that stroke inside him. He clenched his ass around Skinner, making the other man cry out and thrust hard, involuntarily. "Yes, yes. Like that! Do it, do it!"

Skinner began to thrust, pulling halfway out and then pushing all the way in, but his motion was out of sync with Mulder, and he had pulled halfway out when Mulder came, splattering semen on both their chests.

Skinner thrust a few more times, harder and faster, until he, too, climaxed. Still inside Mulder, he kissed the younger man, lying against him and stroking his side.

After a moment, Mulder's own caresses turned to a gentle push. "I can't breathe."

Skinner pulled out and rolled onto his back. He sighed heavily.

"I know."

Mulder turned on his side towards Skinner. "I'm not exactly the world's greatest lover, Walter." He used Skinner's first name hesitantly.

"Well, the first time is not usually that satisfying in my experience," Skinner said ruefully, "and I've never garnered rave reviews myself."

"Having is not as satisfying a thing as wanting," Mulder quoted.

"Where's that from?" Skinner raised his eyebrows, facing Mulder.

"Star Trek."

"Jesus, Mulder." Skinner started to laugh, and found he couldn't stop himself. After a moment, Mulder joined him, moving closer and putting an arm around the burly chest, feeling the rumble and shake through his arm.

"So you think next time will be better?"

"Bound to be."

Constructive criticism gladly accepted - 


End file.
